Frozen Memories
by just call me Cappy
Summary: Kiritsugu knows that eventually, he will have to sacrifice the woman he loves for the sake of winning the Grail War. But for now, they have each other, they have today ... and today just happens to be Valentine's Day.


_The woman who was standing in front of him wasn't his wife._

_She looked exactly like her: pale, silver hair that fell to her waist, beautiful amber-red eyes, a smile etched sweetly on her face that always made him feel like being welcomed home. But it wasn't Irisviel; no, this – this _thing_ in front of him was wearing Irisviel's face, but it was ancient and dark and made out of old powers that he couldn't possibly begin to understand._

_He had his gun trained levelly at her lovely face – the same face he kissed and cradled, the last thing he saw before he fell asleep every night. His finger hovered over the trigger._

_The Thing wearing Irisviel's face spoke: "So, Kiritsugu. What will it be. Will you lose her and all that you love for the sake of this War?"_

_And for the first time in years, he felt his hand shaking as his finger tightened over the trigger._

* * *

Kiritsugu opened his eyes – the dream faded away into the cold and bright sunlight streaming through the gauze curtains of his bedroom. Instinctively, he reached across the bed, expecting the touch of his wife's warm skin and the hear her softly whisper good morning. Instead his hand skimmed over empty sheets, and for bleary, half-awake moment he thought he was back in the dream: Irisviel gone, he had lost her, he couldn't save her.

But then in a rush, he regained his bearings: They were in Fuyuki City, Japan. They were in the midst of the Grail War. They had left their old life behind, and there was work to be done.

But first he'd have to find Irisviel.

He padded from the bedroom, through the spacious mansion they'd acquired in the woods behind Fuyuki City. She usually didn't wake up before he did; and when she did, she'd wait for him, combing her long, silver hair in front of the dressing table mirror. Sometimes he'd pretend to still be asleep just to watch her.

He looked in the study first, and when he didn't find her there he tried the dining room - that was when he heard the muffled sound of crockery breaking against tile and caught the faint, sweet smell of chocolate wafting through the air. Vaguely wondering if he was still dreaming, he wandered towards the kitchen.

Sliding the door of the kitchen open, Kiritsugu tried to fathom the sight in front of him. Irisviel, beautifully-lit in shafts of pale gold sunlight, was wearing an apron and holding onto several mixing bowls that looked like they were filled with chocolate and cream and jam. Chocolate and flour streaked the pale white of her skin, and what looked like used to be a ceramic bowl was scattered in pieces on the floor. Irisviel looked flustered and upset.

"Kiritsugu, I dropped it," she said with an almost childish obviousness, clearly distressed. Kiritsugu reached for a dish towel, and picked up the broken pieces tentatively.

"No, don't," he said, as Irisviel reached towards the broken pieces. "You'll cut yourself. Please go fetch a broom and a pan."

They cleaned the mess in silence. When the broken pieces were safely in the bin and the mixing bowls arranged in some semblance of order by the sink, Irisviel leaned sheepishly on the edge of the marble countertop and murmured, "I'm sorry I woke you."

Kiritsugu reached out and tenderly wiped a smudge of chocolate off Irisviel's cheek. "What are you doing, Iri?"

She bit her lip and lowered her gaze, a light pink blush rising to her cheeks. It had already been years, but Kiritsugu was still fascinated by her more candid, human reactions - he could still remember the lifeless doll she once was, expressionless and cold ... but now her eyes were lit and animated as she glanced up to look at him.

"I was reading about Japan last night. Apparently there is a ritual in this country, on 14th February every year, young ladies would give homemade chocolate to the ones they admire."

Kiritsugu surveyed the mess of ingredients in the kitchen, and made the connection. "You were making Valentine's Day chocolate," he murmured, "for me?"

Irisviel held up the flour-stained pages of a recipe book. "Chocolate lava cake, actually. It looks so lovely in the photo. I asked Saber to buy this book for me."

He looked at the glossy photograph on the open page, a picture-perfect scrumptious cake in a pool of melted fudge topped with jam and cream, looking nothing like the bowls of half-melted chocolate and flour that littered the kitchen.

"It's the first time I'm trying this," Irisviel said, seeming to know what Kiritsugu was thinking as she surveyed the mess. She clutched delicately at the hem of her apron. "I never thought it would be so difficult. Maybe I should have tried something easier ..."

Kiritsugu reached out and touched her arm, and she spun to look at him, the distance closing between them without either realizing. Kiritsugu absentmindedly brushed her hair back tenderly, running the whole length between his fingers, wondering if there was anything else in existence that was so soft and pristine.

"Do you think we should try make it together?" Kiritsugu proposed.

Irisviel bit her lip thoughtfully. "That really defeats the purpose of me making it for you," she said. "It's supposed to be a present."

"How about ... I'll make some for you, and you make some for me in return? That way it's a gift exchange."

Irisviel laughed. For one, tender moment, Kiritsugu's heart tightened in a sublime sort of pain. He wanted to freeze this memory forever - Iri with her chocolate-stained cheeks laughing in the cold winter sunlight, because he knew that this wouldn't last forever, that he will eventually have to give this all up.

Both he and Iri had to fulfill their roles in the Grail War; he as the Einzbern's agent in the Grail War, and she as the Grail Vessel, preparing for their eventual, dark fate. He was prepared to steel his heart for that moment, but for now ... for now, they had Ilya, they had each other, and they had these small, sunlit moments frozen in time.

He reached for a measuring cup and a packet of flour, and glanced gingerly at the open recipe book.

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This fic is dedicated to Raz & Summer, my Fate/Zero family! :)_


End file.
